


Charmed Meets Harry Potter: Guardian Angel

by KokoroJunnayai



Series: Charmed Meets [12]
Category: Charmed (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And a Hug, Chris isn't the best whitelighter, Gen, Harry needs a therapist, changed future, doesn't exist here, ignore the time differences between charmed and harry potter, unfortunately Chris is that therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KokoroJunnayai/pseuds/KokoroJunnayai
Summary: In which Chris is a guardian angel (but not That Kind of guardian angel), and Harry's life gets even weirder.
Gen. Takes place during Goblet of Fire.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a meeting between two green-eyed heroes.

It's a kid.

A teen, who can't possibly be much older than Harry, standing there in jeans and a leather jacket looking for all the world like he'd apparated here straight from the normal world.

 

He stares at Harry with eyes the color of ivy.

 

"We don't normally do this, you know." He says, accent terribly American, but...more specific.

 

Harry can't recall the right state's name.

 

He looks back at the stranger and wonders if this man – teen, really – is talking to him, wonders if he's really supposed to be here. Harry had needed a moment alone before his next class, before more accusations and lies about himself, so he'd found this deserted alcove and sat down, only to realize it wasn't deserted and jump back up.

 

"Er....sorry?" Harry says politely.

 

"You're an exception. They excused the rules for you."

 

Like that clears everything up.

 

"See, normally, Wizards don't get whitelighters. It wouldn't be fair, you know? You already have no consequences for personal gain, what would you need us for?"

 

"What's a whitelighter?" Harry asks, curious despite himself.

 

The bloke sighs at him, running a hand through dark brown hair.

 

"Me. Kinda like a guardian angel, only no wings. No _literal_ wings. Usually we just protect witches – "

 

Harry is getting confused with this possibly insane person.

 

"You protect witches but not wizards?"

 

"No – witchy witches Like, like _wiccans_. Magical people who don't need wands to do magic."

 

"Ah." Harry makes an agreeable noise as though he understands now. All of this is going right over his head – just like arithmetic class.

 

"But like I said, you're special."

 

Well that's nothing new. He's been 'special' for quite some time now – it's really starting to irk him.

 

 

"Apparently you're someone who merits a little rule bending, and so...here I am. It's my job to protect you and guide your way. And stuff." The guy rubs at his nose, shrugging apathetically at Harry as he speaks as though he offers to protect people as often as he breathes.

 

Harry doesn't quite think he wants anything from this man.

 

"Erm. Who are you, exactly?"

 

The guy shrugs again. Harry can honestly say the man has conquered the cool and flippant approach to social situations.

 

"Chris Halliwell." Chris Halliwell says. "I'm your new whitelighter. Nice to meet you." And he holds out his hand to shake, which Harry does with some hesitation and bewilderment.

 

It's only ten shakes later that he realizes, blinking at Chris's raised eyebrow and refusal to let go of his hand, that Chris is waiting for a name. Usually even crazy people know his name.

 

"Uh, I'm Harry Potter."

 

Immediately he releases Harry.

 

"Great. Okay Harry, if you ever need any help – taking down bad guys, healing your wounds, quick teleportation, er, _therapy_ –" Chris shudders involuntarily at the last of these. “–just call for me and I'll be there."

 

"I don't have a telephone." Harry points out. "And I don't have your number."

 

"Damn, wizards are old fashioned." The self proclaimed 'whitelighter' mutters under his breath. "But no, that's not what I mean. Literally. Just – just shout my name. I'll hear you, wherever I am. Promise."

 

 

Chris stands there, blinking and scowling impatiently down at him for a minute.

 

There doesn't seem to be any harm in telling the strange man yes, so Harry nods agreeably and says,

 

“Sure. Yes. Thank you. Er, I'm sort of late for History of Magic, though, so if you don't mind –”

 

He is not actually late – and he doesn't think he'd care if he were – but there's already too many weird things going on in his life.

 

He doesn't need another.

 

Chris rolls his eyes at him, replies with heavy sarcasm,

 

“You're _welcome_ , kid.”

 

As Harry is making his escape, he hears Chris grumble something about 'skipping school for school'.

 

The boy who lived makes it all the way to the end of the corridor when the bright blue lights catch his eye.

 

His head swivels around, searching for Mr. Halliwell.

 

He finds only a swarm of sky blue orbs, and watches, amazed, as they rose and vanished into nothing.

 

 

Huh.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris fails his physics test.

 

For some kid named _Harry_.

 

His life is not going how he pictured it.

 

Why the elders had to pick that afternoon to ruin by dumping a strange wizard charge into his lap, Seers can only hope to guess – but Chris is nothing if not adaptable.

 

He does extra credit; he studies; his life continues on as normal. Well. _Halliwell_ normal.

 

 

 

The next time his new charge comes up is at dinner a few nights later, when his father asks why the elders wanted to see him.

 

He explains to his family about Harry Potter.

 

“Wait. Chris.” His dad is making that pained face that means he's trying not to say ' _you screwed up_ '. “You didn't really talk to him? You just...left him your card?”

 

“Dad.” Chris scoffs. “I don't have _cards_. Though I'm beginning to think all whitelighters should – it would really streamline the whole process.”

 

Piper bites into her bread to keep from laughing – when Leo raises an eyebrow at her, she turns and frowns appropriately at Chris.

 

It's half-hearted at best, because she's the cool parent more often than you think. She winks at him when Leo's not looking.

 

Chris grins back.

 

A disappointed, if not surprised, sigh echoes throughout the table.

 

“Really, Chris. This kid could be going through all manner of trials and difficulties. How will you know how to help if you don't talk to him?”

 

 

“Nobody says 'manner' anymore, Dad.” He points out.

 

Leo just looks at him.

 

“It's times like these I miss Wyatt.” Leo sighs. “At least he speaks your logic.”

 

Wyatt is fluent in both optimist and pragmatist (though he tends mostly towards the former), but at the moment is away at college, getting some serious knowledge and switching majors weekly like a crazy person.

 

Chris kinda misses Wy too. Even though his brother is but one orb away.

 

Really, when you live a room away from a person for sixteen and a half years, any distance after that – from two miles to two thousand miles – feels like a world away.

 

“Hey, Chris.” Mel breaks in after a moment. “This kid, you said he goes to school? A magic school?”

 

Chris thinks about it.

 

“Well the staircases were moving around. And everyone there wore wizard robes. And the kid said he was late for History of Magic, or whatever.”

 

“So that's a yes on 'magic school'.” Mel eyes him thoughtfully. “You think I could tour it?”

 

Piper and Leo both look up from their dinners.

 

“No.” They say in unison.

 

“But – I just wanna tour!” His baby sister pouts.

 

Piper sighs, setting her fork down to glare at her daughter across the table.

 

“Mel, you need to learn _real world_ skills, like math and science. Not – not _history of magic_. You can't expect to get a job in the real world.....”

 

 

The rest is tuned out by Chris. He knows how this argument will end – Elders know he's heard it enough.

 

 

Their conversation about Harry Potter is dropped, and Chris's new charge is all but forgotten for several more months.

 

Frankly, Chris doesn't even recall he has a current charge until it happens.

 

All whitelighters feel their charges. All the time. Eventually, it becomes like a toe or an ear – something you know is there, but you barely consider anymore.

 

Until.

 

Until the pain comes.

 

Chris is walking home from school when it happens (he can orb, sure, but he's not _that_ lazy) and it leaves him crumpled roughly on the sidewalk, clutching at his chest.

 

“Damn it.” He says tightly, the breath punched from his lungs. “Harry _friggin'_ Potter.”

 

When the pain subsides enough, he stands, brushes off the dirt.

 

Home is five minutes away, but he doesn't have time to drop off his backpack – so he tosses it carelessly in a bush and just, _hopes_ , no one steals his English essay.

 

Then he's gone, orbing his way to England.

 

He has a charge to save.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any typos! I'll try to fix them in the morning :)

Whatever Chris expected to see after following the connection, the tread of pain and magical protection, the scene before him isn't it.

 

A disgusting, white man – and Chris doesn't mean Caucasian, he means friggin' _snow white_ , like the color of those creepy blind fish that live in caves – is laughing as he chases a kid, a stick (wand) in his hand.

Green light blares and flashes as spell after spell careens through the air, mostly hitting...graves.

 

Chris is standing in a graveyard. Great. Cause nothing bad _ever_ happens in places like these.

 

Creepy white dude has buddies that circle him silently, seemingly content to watch him chase the dark-haired boy.

 

And oh.

Off to the side, lying on the ground like fast food litter, there's another kid.

 

A dead one.

 

 

 

If Chris lets it in, there's a sea of fear and pain and fury being pushed at him from Harry's side of their connection, threatening to overwhelm them both.

 

Chris doesn't let it in.

 

Instead, he brings a hand up and jerks it to the side, telekenetically tripping one of the ominously robed guys to the ground. The man hits it, hard, and goes unconscious.

 

The others glance around in confusion, muttering to themselves. There are more of those funny twigs in their hands, because for some reason that is the trade off for being able to (freely) use magic for personal gain; they have to channel their magic through little bitty _wands._

 

There are no such restrictions on Chris. He's really more of a hands-on kind of guy.

 

Two more jerks bring a pair of robes crashing into each other, one of whom's defensive spell hits another robe.

 

 

All hell is breaking loose. They are beginning to lose their circle formation, and do not seem to see him a good fifty feet away next to a rather tall grave.

 

“Teach you to mess with my charge.” Chris mutters, flipping a blond man head first into a tombstone.

 

But while he's been taking care of the lackeys, white boss man has confronted Harry.

 

The two figures are stuck, both pointing wands at each other, powerful, multicolored magic streaming between them.

 

“Oh crap,” Chris says, dropping his hands. “That doesn't look good.”

 

Admittedly, Chris knows little of wizard magic – he'd gotten some magical education at Magic School after regular high school, and they covered wizards in like one small chapter – but there's this bead in the middle of their streams, and it's inching towards Harry's side, and that looks pretty universally bad.

 

Then something weird and wandy happens. Harry sort of  _pushes_ the bead back towards Evil Villain dude. Light, ethereal forms seem to emerge from the stream of magic, and they seem to talk to Harry and the other figure.

 

Chris can't hear them, as he's fifty feet away, but their words seem to shock Harry. The boy is sweating and shaking and scared and Chris doesn't know what will happen when that golden thread breaks but he should do something soon or -

 

Suddenly the tomb in front of Chris explodes.

 

“What the _hell_?!” He yells, already ducking and moving. The robes have finally spotted him, it seems, and they look kind of angry.

 

He orbs out and away to throw them off, but it doesn't work as well as he'd like as it's _night time_ and his movements are completely lit up with _glowing blue light_.

 

 

A split-second decision is made. Chris looks at the fifteen or more enemies he and Harry face, and he knows that neither of them would come out of this battle unscathed.

 

Ducking behind another tombstone, Chris hears familiar words pour from his mouth, almost like a prayer.

    
    “Let the Object
    of Objection
    Become but
    a Dream
    As I cause
    the Seen
    to be Unseen!”

 Fifteen or more enemies look extremely confused as they appear to be swarmed by blue lights and orbed somewhere far away.

"Nailed it." Chris breathes to himself, heart still pumping from his desperate ( _manly_ ) fleeing.

He can only hope they don't have magical means of returning very soon.

 

Standing up, he brushes broken pieces of tombstone and dirt off his clothes, and walks towards an in-shock Harry, mindful to hold his hands to the side to demonstrate his unwillingness to hurt.

 

“Hey, Harry. You remember who I am, right? Chris Halliwell?” Chris doesn't pause for an answer, as it's unlikely he'd get one. “Yeah, sorry I'm a bit late. I was...”

 

What, walking home from school? While Harry was facing a life-and-death-situation? There is almost nothing in the world that would be as important as saving Harry.

 

“Anyway,” He continues unsmoothly, “We should probably get you home, right? Before those people come back. Uh, I could orb you...if that's okay, I mean?”

Harry can't stop staring at his wand and at the dark, empty field around the two of them. It's weirding Chris out.

 

“Cedric,” Harry croaks abruptly, face pale. Blood drips down the boy's arm and leg, and Chris wishes suddenly he hadn't lied about knowing how to heal – Chris wishes he could make those wounds, at least, go away.

 

“Cedric...we...” Harry clears his throat and points, hand trembling, to something twenty odd feet away. “We have to take him with us.”

 

Chris realizes very late that Cedric is the dead kid. He also realizes that as much as his charge needs him right now, the magic school he goes to doesn't.

 

Oh, oh _man_.

 

If Chris randomly shows up with a shaken Harry and a dead student, no teacher is gonna thank him.

 

There will be questions and accusations. There will be queries he can't really answer.

 

So, hating himself a little in the process, Chris asks,

 

“Harry. How did you get here?”  


He can't have orbed or Appart-somethinged – he's too young for the latter. Chris is pretty sure. Okay, not sure at all, but it must not be a stupid question because Harry blinks, then gestures to a shape on the ground.

 

“'s a portkey.” Harry adds belatedly, like that means something.

 

It looks like...a trophy? Shrugging, Chris walks over, picks it up with his sleeve (better safe than sorry with magical items, he's learned) and sets in within reach of Harry.

Then, feeling very strange and almost guilty, like he is doing something wrong, he orbs dead kid's body over.

 

It's...weird. It freaks Chris out inside, to be so close to a deceased person. And not only is Cedric dead, but he's young – it looks that much more unnatural.

 

For all that, the kid doesn't appear scared or anything. Cedric's eyes are wide, his mouth barely parted, like he'd been just the slightest bit surprised when he was killed. He looks like he's unconscious, eyes open.

 

 

Blinking, Chris remembers where he is and looks over to Harry, who seems just as lost at the sight of the dead body.

 

This was his friend. This murdered kid was Harry's –

 

Chris swallows his emotions and goes over to crouch in front of the now-seated Harry.

 

“Harry. You need to go back and tell your teachers about this.”

 

Harry's eyes sharpen slightly.

 

“You uh, don't need to mention me. But you gotta talk to someone you trust about this. It's important. Tell them everything – about the people that wanted you dead, about – about Cedric. Everything. I'll...I'll find you later, okay? I promise.”

 

Finally, Harry meets his gaze. He nods, once, and reaches a reluctant hand to grab Cedric's wrist. Then he touches the trophy, and both kids are yanked away from the graveyard.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I didn't want to mess up the ending of Goblet of Fire too badly, so this is what happened. 
> 
> And don't worry, Chris is going to be very angsty and guilt-ridden for not being there when his charge needed him. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed!! There will probably be one or two more chapters in this. :D


	3. Chapter 3

 

Chris checks in mentally with Harry every few hours for a couple days. He lets the connection open and feels what Harry feels, to make sure the kid is okay, and mostly all Chris gets is _tired_ _tired tired_.

 

It both worries and comforts him. His concentration at school is pretty much shot, but Chris is a good student and one or two C's will not make him fail high school.

 

Otherwise, things are quiet for the rest of the week. Harry, Chris knows, is getting lots of rest and support from his loved ones, and that's enough for now.

 

There's nothing Chris can do for his charge that they aren't already doing.

 

 

Several times, Chris is stung by grief, longing, and regret, and he has to cut off the connection to avoid crying in class.

 

On Friday, after school, Chris finally opens it back up and tests the waters.

 Harry is...sad. But not overwhelmed. He's alone right now, thinking about things.

 

That's probably as perfect an opportunity as Chris is going to get.

 

“Mom! I'm gonna go visit my charge!” Chris shouts down the stairs as he tugs on a jacket.

 

“Alright! Dinner's at six!” She yells back. “Happy whitelightering!”

 

Smiling, Chris orbs out of his home and to Hogwarts tower.

 

He breathes in as he materialized. The air in Great Britain always tastes different somehow, older, maybe, or richer – like the plentiful magic thriving in the country has seeped into even the atmosphere.

 He enjoys it.

 

Chris leans on the wall of the tower and stares down at the expanse of castle, grounds, and mountains far beyond that. If nothing else, wand-wavers sure do know how to learn somewhere beautiful.

 Closing his eyes, feeling the wind on his face, Chris smiles again.

 

“Hey, Harry.” He says.

 

The figure near the door doesn't quite jump, but hesitates before joining Chris in looking out over the wall.

 

“Hello.” Harry says quietly.

 

Silence manifests between them. The air is cold and gorgeous, and the view is to die for, but all of it can only help so much.

 

There's a deep fissure cracking inside him.

 

“I'm sorry I wasn't around, before.” Chris blurts out, when he can't stand it anymore. “I was catching up on school. And uh...I knew your friends were looking out for you.”

 

Harry doesn't reply immediately. He clenches his hands against the railing, then releases them.

 

“I wasn't sure you were real, for a while.”

 

It isn't meant as a barb, but it still feels like one. _Great whitelightering_ , Chris thinks to himself. _You're around so little your charge didn't think you existed._

 

“I'm sorry.” He says again. He means it. The guilt has been eating at him relentlessly for days.

 

Harry gives him a funny look.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it's my job to look out for you! And...I kinda suck.” Chris scratches his neck and shrugs, as though that will fix these emotions he's having. “I really am a whitelighter, I promise. I'm just a terrible excuse for one.”

 

Harry glances at him even more confusedly, his eyes blinking in clear bewilderment.

 

“You – you really mean that.” He mutters to himself, like it's new. “You really are a-a...Whitelighter?”

 

Chris nods.

 

“Oh.” Harry mulls this over. “Oh. Alright then.”

 

While Chris wants to apologize again, or really, just hear his charge speak the words 'I forgive you', he thinks that would defeat the purpose. If all he came here to do was make _himself_ feel better, he's learned nothing about being a whitelighter.

 

Today, Chris is here not for himself, or for the Elders or his parents or anyone else – he's here for Harry.

 

For real this time.

 

So he breathes, he lets go of his shame, and he stands there in the cold, just in case Harry wants to talk.

 

And if he doesn't, or at least doesn't want to talk today, well then, Chris will be there tomorrow. 

 

And the day after. And the day after.

 

He's going to take care of his charge this time.

 

* * *

 

They talk a few more times after that, before school ends. Chris offers awkwardly to talk about Cedric and Harry politely, but firmly, declines each time.

 

It's weird, Harry thinks. Having someone like Chris, whose entire job description is _look after Harry Potter_. But..not weird-bad. It makes Harry feel special (like he doesn't feel that way enough already) to have a confidant all his own.

 

Chris is very American, intense, and awkward in his way of caring. And he does care.

 That is why Harry, at the end of one of their tower-conversations right near summer break, pauses before leaving.

 

“Chris..” He says, hesitating only for another moment. “I'm er, not sure if you know where I live – ”

 

“If you're there, I'll sense you.” Chris interrupts, and oh, that's rather weird and a little unnerving.

 

“Yeah,” Harry starts up again. “Well, if you wanted to drop by this summer, I er, wouldn't mind. I-it can get pretty boring there. At my aunt and uncle's house.”

 

It feels like Harry's heart is beating just a little too fast. He's never been great or unashamed about affection, but this is a guy he thinks he'd like to be friends with.

 

It should be worth it.

 

After a scary second, Chris's face breaks into an unexpectedly bright smile.

 

“I think I can manage a couple visits.”

 

Harry finds himself grinning back. It's nice to think that even if he's going back to the Dursely's, he won't be stranded there alone _all_ summer.

 

 "I'd like that. See you then, Chris."

 

His whitelighter nods at him.

 

"See you around, Harry Potter."

 

And that summer, Harry goes home, yes, with Cedric's death and Voldemort's rising on his mind, but also on something else.

 

He made a new friend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chris is a good kid. He just went into the whitelighter gig with the wrong attitude, like 'my family is almost all whitelighters, I got this nonsense' and focused more on himself than his charge. Which, I'm sure is against like White-lighter rule number one. 
> 
> Anyway, this was fun to write, hope you enjoyed it!! I might write more in this particular universe, if you guys want. Let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
